


choosing self-love over self-judgment

by kayson, sky_reid



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Body Image, Body Worship, Comeplay, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Gyms, I wrote this months ago, Insecurity, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Sexual Content, Switching, That's it, Weight Issues, all i can recall with any certainty is, do you actually expect me to remember what it is, fuck man it's porn with arthur insecure about his weight it's rly not v complex, hmmmm, iiiiii think, more like, that's the story, well fuck me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayson/pseuds/kayson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's been insecure about his weight his whole life, which is why his daily routine includes weighing himself and going to the gym. Merlin has better ideas about how he should spend his free time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	choosing self-love over self-judgment

**Author's Note:**

> title from the quote “by choosing healthy over skinny you are choosing self-love over self-judgment” from steve maraboli's _unapologetically you: reflections on life and the human experience_ which i haven't actually read but will now appear all hipster and smart for using a quote god bless google
> 
> originally written for the perverse bang this summer but since we never got our posting date we never posted it. we were gonna go through it and write some more plot into it and stuff but eventually gave up and decided to post it as is mostly because we're lazy and impatient. i genuinely don't remember if i like how it turned out or not because i don't remember what i wrote, it was 6am 36 degrees celsius hadn't slept and kay had work okay i don't remember anything other than feeling vaguely dirty from all that porn in only a few hours
> 
> anyway yes i'mma let you get to reading

_Choosing Self-Love Over Self-Judgment_

 

Arthur is exactly 6 feet tall and today he weighs exactly 209.44 pounds.

 

He knows this because he keeps a scale in his bathroom, so every morning before he has even brushed his teeth or showered and every evening before he goes to bed, he steps on it and carefully records the number in his journal. The journal is a large format, leather bound diary with over 600 pages to it. He keeps it in a locked drawer in the black vintage writing desk in his study. He's had it since he was 13 years old, when his uncle gave it to him as a birthday present. He doesn't think that his uncle intended for him to use it this way, but over the years it has become a thorough account of what essentially constitutes his life-long battle, the winnings and failings he's accumulated over the years.

 

Even in Arthur's own head it sounds like a dramatic overstatement of a pimpled teenager trying to make it in the competitive world of junior high. In a way it is, because it's the exact same thing that Arthur felt when he _was_ a pimpled teenager trying to make it in the competitive world of junior high. It's sad that he still feels the same way, even though junior high came and went ten years back.

 

His journal may date back to when he was a teenager, but his memories go much further back. He remembers, all too clearly, all the times he went to school looking forward to it, to classes and friends and having fun, only to be mercilessly teased, called every name in the book, laughed at and avoided. It was a huge change for someone like him, someone who grew up in a household where he had servants and nannies and cooks waiting at his beck and call. He used to think they liked him, that they cared about him and that that was the reason why they were always so nice to him, always ready to praise him and give him a treat. Of course, now he knows that they were only doing their job. In fact, when he thinks about his childhood now, he seems to remember things a little differently – all the maids' and au pairs' faces seem more disinterested and exasperated, all the servants appear more eager to get rid of him. Sometimes he wonders if one of the reasons his father has always been so distant is because he _looks_ like a failure as well as being one.

 

And so for years, for practically as long as he's known how to do it while embarrassedly hiding it from everyone else, Arthur's been trying everything to shed the weight, dieting and exercise plans and all the possible combinations of the two, with varying degrees of failure. Maybe because he never asked for a professional opinion, still held back by the thought that people will laugh at the way he looks or, even worse, be repulsed by him. It's this mindset that has him insecure and withdrawn, passing on opportunities with potential friends and partners. It's not that he doesn't want to go out and have fun, or to wake up with someone in his bed, but whenever he thinks about his future, it's not a clear picture of him in a bar with his friends or him sharing his apartment with the love of his life; it's a sentence starting with _when I lose weight_.

 

So Arthur writes down _209.44_ in his journal and he vows that that evening, the number will be lower.

 

~*~

 

It's a testament to Arthur's determination that he's running out of the gym at 6:34am, sweaty and tired and soon to be late for work. It's a testament to his posh upbringing that he doesn't strangle the awkward mass of limbs that runs into him as soon as he's out of the rec centre. 

 

“Oh gosh, I am so sorry,” the other person says, bending over to pick up something they dropped.

 

“It's fine,” Arthur replies through gritted teeth as he hefts his duffel bag onto his shoulder and steps to the side. There's a taxi at the curb, a young woman just getting out of it and if Arthur plans to shower before work, he will need to take it.

 

“Hey, do you know where the yoga class is?”

 

“Second floor to the left,” Arthur throws over his shoulder as he gets into the cab. He thinks he hears the guy thank him. As he closes the door behind him and gives the driver his address, he watches the guy run to the building. It's chilly and windy outside but the guy is only wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and Arthur can see how the sweatpants cling to the guy's hips and the outlines of a perfectly toned ass, and the guy is tall and just the right combination of thin and muscular (the way Arthur likes, the way he's always wished he could be) and he's doing _yoga_ , for fuck's sake.

 

Arthur hates him instantly.

 

~*~

 

The colourful poster for _Lotus Yoga Studio_ stares Arthur in the face from the glass front doors to his apartment complex. Arthur has an incredibly strong urge to rip it off. And really, _Lotus_ , who was the creative mastermind behind that?

 

Truth be told, Arthur probably just hates this particular studio with extra passion because it's in the same building as his gym and because he knows for a fact there's an incredibly attractive, clumsy guy going there and with Arthur's luck, they'll be running into each other again. Perhaps even literally.

 

Arthur sighs and pushes the door open trying to glare the poster into flames.

 

~*~

 

“Hey, you're the dude I ran into the other day!”

 

Arthur curses under his breath and removes the hand he has so casually been keeping over his face since the moment he realized the yoga guy from the other day was approaching the counter where Arthur was renewing his gym membership.

 

“Does that line ever work for you?” Arthur replies snidely.

 

“Actually, you'd be surprised,” the guy says with a quick grin. Up close and inside the warm building, Arthur notices he's even taller, standing an inch or so above Arthur himself, with blue eyes and perfectly white teeth and Arthur really just hates him even more. “I'm Merlin, by the way,” the guy adds, holding out a hand.

 

Years of ingrained manners win out and Arthur shakes the offered hand, murmuring his name. Merlin's grip is strong and the tips of his fingers are cold.

 

“Your card, sir.”

 

Arthur turns back to the lady working the counter and takes his membership card, grateful for the relatively quick excuse to leave before Merlin speaks to him again.

 

Merlin's voice carries as Arthur walks to the locker rooms. “I'm returning the mat,” he's saying, “I won't be needing it anymore.”

 

~*~

 

Arthur doesn't see Merlin at the centre for the next three weeks, even though he's there practically every day. He doesn't know why he's counting the days since they met or why he always feels a slight pang of something damp and sharp and not unlike disappointment every time he walks up or down the building's steps without someone stumbling into him.

 

~*~

 

Arthur is on the treadmill when he catches a glimpse of Merlin leaning against the wall next to the door to the locker rooms. He almost stumbles (in surprise, of course), even though Merlin is not looking in his direction at all. In fact, Merlin is looking directly at someone else.

 

It's a someone else that Arthur has seen at the gym before, a shaggy looking guy with hair worthy of a shampoo commercial no matter how long and hard he's been working out and a body to die for. Arthur's never met him but he's noticed him – in the crowd of arrogant self-important strutting gym-goers, this guy's always stood out to him as the epitome of simple and easy confidence. Arthur's a little jealous of that.

 

The shaggy guy approaches Merlin and they greet each other with such warmth and familiarity that Arthur's heart sinks a little. The guy says something and Merlin laughs. Arthur ups the speed of the treadmill.

 

~*~

 

Merlin is straddling one of the benches, his phone in his hands, when Arthur walks in. Merlin's buddy is nowhere to be seen. Arthur doesn't make his presence known.

 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Merlin chirps. Arthur finishes zipping up his hoodie.

 

“Hey yourself.” He's not sure how he's supposed to react now that Merlin _is_ here. In fact, he doesn't even know why it matters where Merlin is. “You haven't been coming to yoga,” he says. It's not an accusation. But it's not a question either.

 

Merlin laughs. Arthur knows he's staring. “Yeah, yoga is not really my thing, I only tried it because the first three classes were free.” Merlin shrugs, a shy-looking smile on his face. “I'm sure you can guess how the whole switch from camel to cobra or whatever thing went.”

 

Arthur can. He snorts. He picks at the hem of his sleeve, not sure what else to say.

 

“Really, constructed physical activity of any kind is not really my thing,” Merlin says after a few awkward seconds.

 

Arthur nods. He's grateful when the shaggy guy comes out of the showers before the pause gets awkward again.

 

“Oh, sorry,” he says with a smile a little too knowing for Arthur's liking. There's a white fluffy towel wrapped around his midsection, leaving his chest bare and on display. Arthur follows a droplet of water as it runs down into the dark hairs under the guy's navel. He instinctively holds his hoodie tighter around him. “I'm Gwaine,” the guy says, bending over and rummaging through a dark bag on the bench. “I've seen you around, you're pretty good on the treadmill.”

 

“Thanks?” Arthur replies, keeping his arms stubbornly around himself.

 

Merlin laughs. It sounds different this time, a little nervous. “So you're here often?” Gwaine makes an odd sound, but his hair obscures his face and he doesn't elaborate on his reaction.

 

“Yeah,” Arthur says. He should be leaving, it's getting late and he has a meeting early tomorrow morning. He doesn't move.

 

“Maybe, um, we could see each other again?” Merlin asks. He's not looking at Arthur. That's okay, because Arthur looks away as well.

 

“Yeah,” he says again, dumbly. He doesn't know what Merlin means, but he doesn't ask. He gathers his things and hastily puts them in his bag. “I have to go,” he announces, leaving before he gets an answer. It feels like he's running away.

 

~*~

 

Merlin is leaning against a beat up _Ford_ parked in front of the rec centre. Arthur stands at the foot of the stairs and waves.

 

“Need a ride?” Merlin asks, sounding as cheerful as always. His hands are in his pockets, though, and his eyes are shifty. Arthur looks around before answering.

 

“If you're sure you can start that thing,” he jokes. It lacks the bite.

 

Merlin drops his keys twice before managing to unlock the door. Arthur waves away the taxi he ordered before leaving the gym.

 

~*~

 

“Really, you can't skip a single training?” Merlin grumbles, holding the door closed so Arthur can't get in. Arthur knows he shouldn't skip, but he wants to. He's not overly familiar with the concept of wanting to ditch what he should be doing for he feels like doing. “We can take a walk or, or something?” Merlin sounds different from what Arthur is used to – desperate, nervous. He sighs and steps away from the rec centre entrance.

 

He's had a good week; he's back down to 202 pounds. One training, he tells himself, it's just one training, it won't hurt.

 

~*~

 

“So what else do you like to do?” Merlin asks, waving his Starbucks cup pointlessly in front of himself. It's filled with something entirely too sweet. Arthur barely resisted pointing out the number of calories in it when Merlin ordered it. “Other than, you know, gym and fitness and stuff.”

 

Arthur has to really think about that. “Well, I work,” he replies.

 

Merlin laughs. “Not that, I meant in your free time.”

 

Arthur needs to really think hard this time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes this is not exactly normal. “I like to read,” he says finally. He imagines he can see Merlin's ears perk up.

 

“Oh yeah? What do you like to read?”

 

~*~

 

“Hey, are you free tomorrow morning?” Gwaine asks through a mouthful of _Snickers_.

 

“Sure,” Arthur replies. He checks his watch. If he takes a really short shower and accepts being a few minutes late to work, he has time to stay and chat with Gwaine some more. He wonders if this kind of thinking means they're friends now.

 

“I'm planning on dragging Merlin running. You should join us.”

 

Arthur thinks of Merlin wearing sweatpants that flow down from his hips in just the right way, of a sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to him. “Where are we meeting?” he asks. He thinks of Merlin sleepy and pouting and complaining, of Merlin tripping on the track. He looks away from Gwaine, hopes the blush on his cheeks is not as obvious as it feels.

 

~*~

 

“You're in better shape than I am,” Merlin pants, pressing a hand to his side while using the other to support himself on a tree.

 

“Not really,” Arthur shrugs, only slightly less out of breath. He wants to keep running. Running makes him feel light, like he could fly if he wanted to. It makes him want to laugh until his face hurts. Running with Merlin makes him want to run forever. He's glad that Gwaine was suspiciously unable to make it.

 

“What are you talking about, I've had to chase you practically the entire time!” Merlin laughs.

 

“At least you didn't trip,” Arthur teases. The warm breeze feels good against the sweat running down his back. He almost doesn't miss the oversized hoodie he likes to sink into.

 

“Oh ha ha bloody ha.” Merlin stands straight to roll his eyes at Arthur properly. Arthur just smiles wider.

 

~*~

 

The yoga studio poster is gone, Arthur notices absently. The concrete is rough under his back, scratchy through the thin, damp cotton of his t-shirt.

 

“We should see each other more often,” Merlin says, like a confirmation of a previous agreement, not a question at all.

 

Arthur has just enough time to breathe a quiet _yeah_ before Merlin is crowding further into his personal space and kissing him. Arthur sucks in a harsh breath, panic gripping him for a brief moment when one of Merlin's hands slips under his t-shirt and the eternally cold tips of Merlin's fingers tickle over Arthur's stomach. But Merlin nips at his bottom lip and tightens the hold on Arthur's hair and Arthur forgets everything else.

 

He breathes out, lets his stomach muscles relax. Merlin keeps kissing him.

 

~*~

 

Arthur locks his journal in the drawer. The last number reads _201.36_ , almost a whole pound more than the one before it. It's not the best day Arthur's ever had.

 

“Didn't figure you for marble countertops and stainless steel,” Merlin yells from the kitchen. It makes Arthur smile. He runs a hand over the locked drawer. The texture is as familiar as breathing. He stands up and leaves the room.

 

Later, when they're sitting at the kitchen table, eating the risotto they made (Arthur made with copious amounts of adorable uselessness from Merlin), Merlin asks him why he's so distracted. Arthur holds his fork more tightly. It's been a long time since he last let anyone into his apartment. He doesn't say anything.

 

~*~

 

Merlin laces their fingers together and leans his head on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur automatically slows down to what he has learnt to consider Merlin's tempo for a late night walk. He wonders when this became so normal a part of his day that it's all running so smoothly without him even trying.

 

Merlin angles his face to the side and kisses Arthur's neck. Arthur smiles into the night.

 

~*~

 

Merlin's cheap patchwork of a couch creaks when Merlin squirms impatiently. His nails scrape lightly over Arthur's side, tickling him. His hands find Arthur's hips, grip them tightly, and hold them in place. He arches his back, lifts himself off the bed, and rubs against Arthur. Arthur can feel the rough texture of Merlin's jeans when it presses against his ass and balls. His suit is going to be a mess tomorrow. He bats away Merlin's hands, presses Merlin into the couch and rolls his hips over Merlin's lap. Merlin throws his head back and makes a strangled noise. Arthur dives in and bites at the exposed skin.

 

Merlin grabs fistfuls of Arthur's dress shirt and pulls on them. Arthur knows what Merlin is trying to do. He slides graciously to the floor, licking across Merlin's chest along the way. It doesn't seem like Merlin notices the change of direction. Arthur breathes a sigh of relief over Merlin's belly. He unbuttons Merlin's jeans, then runs his palm over the hardness in Merlin's boxers. Merlin's skin feels like it's on fire. Arthur wants to tease him about it, but he's sweating in his shirt as well so it wouldn't really be fair. He takes a condom out of his pocket, pulls Merlin's cock out of his underwear and rolls the condom over it. As soon as he licks the first stripe, Merlin is moaning loudly, one of his hands already in Arthur's hair. Arthur can't resist rubbing himself through his pants.

 

Merlin comes long before Arthur can truly appreciate the experience, when his knees aren't hurting yet. Before Merlin can think to do anything, Arthur finishes himself off. He presses his face to the inside of Merlin's thigh, panting. Merlin's fingers are scratching his scalp gently. It's the best sex Arthur's head probably ever. It's the best he's felt in a long while.

 

~*~

 

Arthur sneaks out of bed, careful not to wake Merlin up. He splashes his face with cold water and lets some of it drip onto the old, worn t-shirt he sleeps in before he wipes it off.

 

He steps on the scale. Waits. The scale beeps twice. The number _198.73_ glows up at him. Arthur's heart skips a beat.

 

~*~

 

Arthur can hardly breathe with his face pressed into the plush couch cushion. He can hardly breathe with Merlin holding him down with both hands pressed against Arthur's back. He can hardly breathe with Merlin driving into him from behind. He bites the cushion hard and muffles a groan into it. Merlin's hands drift over Arthur's back, one coming to rest at Arthur's hip, the other holding his shoulder. It gives Merlin better purchase and he fucks deeper into Arthur's ass. Arthur lets the strength of the movement shove his face further into the pillow. His cock rubs over the armrest pleasantly.

 

“Some day,” Merlin pants into Arthur's ear as he bends over to plaster himself against Arthur's back, “I'm gonna have you on your back, and I'm gonna fuck you until you come all over yourself.” He bites at the back of Arthur's neck as Arthur whines into the cushion wet with saliva. “Then I'm gonna pull out and finish on you. You're gonna have my come on your cock, and your balls, your stomach, chest.” Merlin's breath is getting shorter and Arthur knows it won't be long now. He closes his eyes, listens to Merlin's voice, his words broken by breathy moans. “And I'm gonna rub it into your skin. And you're gonna love it.”

 

Arthur comes so hard he doesn't notice when Merlin follows. Some day, he thinks.

 

~*~

 

When he was a kid, Merlin was an awkward dork. He was tall and skinny and smart and clumsy, all the things that _didn't_ make one popular. He liked to read and learn and he excelled at literally nothing they ever did in gym class. He hated to play sports and tease girls, always preferring to sit around quietly, watching everything around him. In all reality, the way his classmates treated him – like he wasn't there, like he didn't exist, like they didn't notice him, it did have an effect on him. He felt unworthy and unimportant and school was torture.

 

And then, the summer he turned 13, Gwen moved into the house next door. They became friends instantly, Merlin enjoying her kind and honest nature, her laughing at the jokes he'd never known he could make before that. He followed her to her swimming training one day. The pool was empty but for a few other swimmers and somehow she convinced him to join her. He found that he quite liked how graceful he felt in the water.

 

It was swimming that gave him the confidence he'd always lacked before. He picked up on swimming fast, he was good at it, better than anyone had ever expected and he made it to the competition team in record time. He was the hero of the swimming club and damn, but it felt good.

 

As he changed schools, he met new people, made new friends. He was soon being invited to parties and asked out on dates. While everyone else complained about their teenage years, Merlin could honestly say that puberty was kind to him.

 

Starting with Melissa from class 3A when he was 14, Merlin's had a number of good, long-lasting, devoted relationships. Arguably the best were his three years with Gwaine. They were Merlin's college years, the three wildest and most out-of-control years of his life, but they were good for him in ways he never imagined they would be. Gwaine and him drank a lot and smoked pot sometimes and went out to places they knew and liked only to wake up in places they'd never seen before with no recollection of how they got there. But they learned how to be responsible and loyal to each other, how to have fun and let loose while still fulfilling their duties, and Merlin came out of that relationship with a friend for life, tested and true.

 

Closer to 30 than to 20 by now, he has had ample experience in the dating world and even more in the bedroom. He knows what he is doing and he knows how to do it right; he knows what he likes and what he doesn't and he's had no complaints from his partners either. The key to good sex, he believes, is to know yourself and to get to know your partner. He likes to try new things and see how his partners react, to file away those reactions for future reference. It's an interesting mind game of reading different kinds of cues and understanding how important they are. And Merlin has gotten damn good at that.

 

And this is how he knows there is something Arthur is keeping from him.

 

Arthur is smart and Merlin enjoys his sarcasm and sharp humor. He loves hearing Arthur take business calls, the confidence and strength in Arthur's voice never failing to turn him on. He adores talking to Arthur about serious problems but revels in the fact that Arthur appreciates that they need time apart and time for fun too. There are so many things about Arthur that Merlin likes.

 

But Arthur is often quiet and guarded and it hasn't escaped Merlin that he deflects a lot. Especially during sex.

 

Merlin quickly picked up on the fact that Arthur wasn't always comfortable with Merlin in these situations. Their relationship was a slow building of kissing and making out to the first time they had sex, even then clothed and only rubbing off on each other. Arthur had blown Merlin four times (four fantastic times, but still) before Merlin ever even saw Arthur's cock. Until that moment, Merlin had thought that maybe Arthur was insecure about his size, but that couldn't have been it. Merlin dove in and sucked Arthur off without a condom, letting Arthur come on his face and in his mouth, reveling in the sounds Arthur made when he watching Merlin swallow his come.

 

He kept his eyes peeled around Arthur even more after that. The first time they fucked, he thought maybe he would get something more out of Arthur, but they were both tipsy and it was dark in the hallway of Arthur's apartment and Arthur easily let Merlin take him against the wall and he was hard throughout, which Merlin knew because he couldn't resist touching him, and it was hot and dirty and quick and really, Merlin could barely stand, information gathering was well and truly out of the question.

 

Like a man on a mission, Merlin endeavored to try as many different things as possible while keeping a close eye on Arthur. Arthur was open enough to all of Merlin's suggestions, only outright refusing anything even remotely public, but Merlin soon noticed a pattern in their intimacy. Namely, Arthur always wanted the lights off and the room as dark as possible and Arthur had a strong preference for position that didn't involve them being face to face. Like Merlin himself, Arthur liked both giving and taking, but he always preferred Merlin riding him reverse or taking him from behind, both things Merlin enjoyed as well, but that left him wanting more diversity.

 

And, perhaps most frustratingly, they were never fully naked. Or rather, Arthur was never fully naked. He had no problems whatsoever peeling Merlin out of his clothing, kissing, touching, licking every part of him, but it got to the point where their first anniversary was coming up and Merlin was relatively sure he'd never seen Arthur shirtless.

 

It all became quite clear (and obvious, really) when Merlin found out about Arthur's weight diary. It all happened rather accidentally, Merlin woke up before his alarm went off (a historic event that a full bladder took credit for) and saw Arthur in the bathroom, putting something away and writing down in a large black journal that he then took to his study, unaware that Merlin was awake. When Merlin asked him about it, Arthur brushed it off, but when he left for work, Merlin couldn't resist looking for the journal.

 

He found it in a drawer that was locked before it closed properly and therefore was actually somewhat open. Feeling only a little bit guilty and rationalizing his actions to himself with good intentions, Merlin leafed through the journal, full of two three-digit numbers with two-digit decimals under dates going more than ten years back. It took a while for him to realize it was Arthur's weight, taken in the morning and in the evening. He felt like the air had been punched out of him, imagining how obsessed Arthur must be to keep such a detailed record so religiously. And it was so clear then why Arthur was so specific in the bedroom, why he worked out so much and was so careful with his food. Why he was hiding from Merlin.

 

What Arthur doesn't understand, though, is that Merlin doesn't care about Arthur's weight. More than that, he likes it. Hell, he _loves_ snuggling up to Arthur in bed; Arthur is always so warm, so comfortable to wrap around, to lean into. Merlin loves the feeling of Arthur hugging him from behind and there is nothing that gets him off like his fingers sinking into Arthur's side or hip or leg when he comes.

 

That's all right though, Arthur doesn't have to understand. But Merlin will make damn sure he knows it.

 

~*~

 

Merlin tugs Arthur closer and chuckles when their mouths don’t fit together quite right because of his poor timing. “Stop it,” he teases, reaching for Arthur’s wrist when he goes to turn of the light and pressing a gentle kiss just below Arthur’s earlobe in an attempt to keep him close, “no interruptions.”

 

“I just want to get the light,” Arthur says, with an edge that lets Merlin know this is important to him.

 

“Fine,” Merlin sighs and waits the extra ten seconds for Arthur to turn the light off and return to what they had started. “That better?”

 

Arthur mutters something indistinct and Merlin grins against Arthur’s mouth before putting more focus onto getting them into a greater state of undress. He presses himself against Arthur so that they are standing chest to chest and starts backing Arthur up towards the bed. “Come on,” he urges when the back of Arthur’s thighs comes into contact with the mattress, “lie down.”

 

“Don’t order me around,” Arthur teases, pulling Merlin down on top of him and smirking when Merlin tumbles less than gracefully into bed. 

 

“You’re terrible,” Merlin informs him seriously, looking into Arthur's eyes, almost black in the dimly lit bedroom.

 

Arthur snorts and cocks an eyebrow in challenge. “You like me.”

 

“I do,” Merlin says quietly and he presses a much less teasing and much more loving kiss to Arthur’s mouth. “I really, really do, Arthur.” He pulls back and smiles in a way that is almost sad before fixing a playful look on his face. “I like all of you.” He rolls his hips and smirks at Arthur’s gasp of surprise and involuntary upward thrust. “That part is nice too.”

 

“You’re the real terror,” Arthur grumbles but his hands find themselves on Merlin’s hips and his fingers slip under the soft fabric of Merlin’s shirt, seeking Merlin’s warm skin. He thumbs the gentle outlines of Merlin’s hipbones where they peak out over the waistband of his boxers and jeans and runs his hands up Merlin’s stomach to feel the hint of defined ab muscles.

 

Merlin closes his eyes at the feeling of Arthur’s hands ghosting up his hips to his belly and then down his back, holding him tightly enough to make Merlin feel wanted but loose enough to let him know that he is in control. He catches one of Arthur’s hands in his and brings it to his lips, kissing the palm before moving to the sensitive skin of his wrist. He smiles coyly and then nips at Arthur’s wrist once, twice, three times, enjoying the little grunts of pleased arousal. 

 

“C’mon, Merlin,” Arthur whispers, voice slightly strained. Merlin grins again, that grin that he uses to show just how happy he is to have accomplished something. “Stop looking at me like that and _get on_ with it.”

 

“Have some patience,” Merlin chides, far too delighted with the situation as a whole as he bends down to mouth at Arthur’s neck. He noses at Arthur’s jaw to make him turn his head so that he can offer attention to the other side of Arthur’s neck. While doing so, he drops Arthur’s hand and lets both of his hands come to rest on Arthur’s shoulders, supporting his weight. “Let’s get this off tonight,” he suggests, plucking innocently at the fabric of Arthur’s shirt and waiting for a response. 

 

Merlin has a plan. He won’t do anything Arthur doesn’t want of course, but he knows talking openly will get Arthur to shut down faster than Merlin can say _we should talk_ , which would just put Arthur on the defensive anyway, since no one likes to hear those words and Merlin hates to say them as they never bode well in any relationship, so he feels a more proactive approach might be in order.

 

He slides one of his hands under Arthur's shirt, makes sure his touch is both demanding and reassuring. Arthur is refusing to look at him, though, and he grumbles in protest when Merlin pulls on his t-shirt. Merlin's hand under Arthur's t-shirt slides slowly to Arthur's front, Merlin's finger's spreading open until he's covering as much of Arthur's stomach as he can be with one hand. “Please,” he whispers, even though he knows it sounds more like a request than a plea.

 

For a moment, Arthur looks like he is considering, and Merlin is about to congratulate himself on a job well done, but then Arthur takes Merlin by the wrist and removes his hand. He doesn't say anything, just lifts his head straight away, capturing Merlin's lips in a kiss. Merlin can't help it anymore.

 

“Arthur, please, be reasonable,” he says, putting a hand on Arthur's chest and applying just the gentlest pressure. “We've been together for so long and...” But he sees immediately it was the wrong thing to do, to push for so much so suddenly. Arthur is shutting him out, looking away and putting more space between them. Merlin feels cold, like Arthur is taking his body heat with him.

 

“Maybe we shouldn't do this tonight,” Arthur says, his voice not shaking at all, calm and controlled instead. So calm and controlled that he sounds more distant that he's been to Merlin in a long time. It stings more than Merlin is willing to admit.

 

He looks at Arthur who is not meeting his eyes. It's childish and unfair, he decides in that moment, a surge of anger running through his body; Arthur is only a year younger than him, it shouldn't fall down to him to carry them both in this relationship. Even as he's thinking it, he knows it's stupid and the anger dissipates. He stands up, buttons up his jeans and irons out the wrinkles in his clothes.

 

“You can sleep here, I'll take the couch,” Arthur says, like he's suddenly remembering how late it is, that Merlin came on the Tube, that he wasn't planning on going back tonight.

 

“I'll take a taxi,” Merlin replies, grabbing his wallet and keys from Arthur's nightstand and leaving without a word. He sees the look on Arthur's face, a mixture of relief and guilt, and the last of his anger disappears. As he closes the door to Arthur's apartment behind himself, he's even more determined than ever to make Arthur see himself the way Merlin sees him.

 

~*~

 

Arthur is pulling them towards the bedroom, but grabs his ass and pulls him closer effectively stopping Arthur dead in his tracks. Their hips align and Merlin can't help the little aborted jerk forward when he feels Arthur so close to him. It's always as hot as it was the first time.

 

He squeezes Arthur's ass again, fingers of his other hand digging into the back of Arthur's neck. He feels an urgency that wasn't there before – the sun hasn't set yet and Merlin's apartment is bathed in alternating warm light and deep shadows. Arthur's eyes are almost golden, wide and a little scared, locked with Merlin's, but he's not making a move to stop. Merlin kisses him just for that.

 

Arthur is trying, Merlin knows he is. The last few times have been different, Arthur giving Merlin more freedom, not pushing him away as much. One memorable time Arthur lay back and let Merlin ride him while facing him. Merlin watched Arthur's face the entire time, admiring and memorizing every, even slightest, change in his expression. He came embarrassingly quickly, his hands pillowed on Arthur's cotton-covered chest, his balls resting in the light trail of hair under Arthur's belly button. Merlin, never having considered himself a very visual person, was surprised to find how much the whole ordeal mattered to him.

 

And Merlin is grateful for what Arthur is doing, he is, so he doesn't let himself dwell on how hurt he is by the fact that Arthur doesn't trust him enough to be himself and relax. It's funny, before he knew what the problem was, it didn't bother him as much. Now that he knows, it's become the metaphorical elephant of their relationship. He wants to help Arthur, to make him feel more at ease with himself, but the more he tries, and the more he thinks about how little success he's head, the more discouraged he gets and the more he beats himself down. It's a situation he hasn't been in before – neither willing to give up, nor excited to carry on; neither confident about what he's doing nor insecure about; neither happy in his relationship, nor willing to leave it.

 

They're standing in the doorway, just in the bedroom but just out of it too, a place that Merlin feels is oddly fitting for where they are in their life together. Arthur's cheeks are flushed, and Merlin doesn't know if it's arousal or shame or nerves or excitement or all of it. He runs a hand down Arthur's front, over his chest and stomach to the bulge in his jeans, conscious of every rise and fall, every swell and dip, remembering them like he might never feel them again.

 

It's a split-second decision when Merlin drops to his knees and buries his face in between Arthur's legs. Arthur lets out a half-audible breath just as Merlin takes one, breathing in Arthur's smell. Arthur's fingers gently trace the side of Merlin's face, so gently Merlin feels like they might break him apart. He looks up and grins at Arthur to break the tension. He imagines he can see Arthur relax.

 

The button on Arthur's jeans is already undone, so he takes the zipper between his teeth and pulls it down. He smirks mischievously and Arthur rolls his eyes. It feels more relaxed than Merlin expected when he took Arthur upstairs in near broad daylight with his intentions painfully clear.

 

He runs his nose over the side of Arthur's cock, obviously outlined in his briefs., follows the line with his tongue. His mouth is dry by the time he gets to the tip, but he sucks it into his mouth still covered in fabric. He can taste the bitter and salty pang of Arthur's arousal and his mouth waters a little. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Arthur's briefs, pulls them down half an inch just as Arthur rolls his hips so the head of his cock just peeks out. Merlin takes it in his mouth, runs his tongue around it, presses it flat to the top before sucking as hard as he can. Arthur moans quietly.

 

Merlin looks up, as he pulls Arthur's underwear down with his jeans; Arthur is looking at him, his eyes practically glowing, his lips parted. Merlin doesn't break the eye contact as he slides down Arthur's cock until he has most of it in his mouth. Arthur lets out a loud breath through his nose, half a snort, half a grunt that makes Merlin's own jeans just that little bit tighter.

 

He undoes his jeans with one hand, using the other to hold the base of Arthur's cock and keep it steady as he bobs his head slowly once, twice, three times. Arthur is not the longest he's ever had, but he's certainly the widest and Merlin is always surprised anew by how much his lips stretch around Arthur's dick, how full his mouth feels. He pulls off of Arthur with a slurping sound, replaces the suction of his mouth with firm strokes of his hand, the tips of his fingers catching under the head, pressing a little tighter.

 

He sits up a little, crawls a little closer, buries his nose in Arthur's pubes, lets them tickles over his face as he inhales. Half-consciously, he squeezes Arthur harder, his free hand cupping Arthur's balls and rolling them, heavy and warm. He feels a little intoxicated on the smell of Arthur, a little bold, so he runs his nose up, over the slight swell of Arthur's belly, until it's lifting the hem of Arthur's t-shirt. He kisses the warm skin, turns his face so that his cheek presses against the tense muscles. He waits a beat, then two. Arthur's hand slides over the back of his neck, through his hair, and then Arthur lifts his t-shirt, bunches it up so it's held up by his armpits.

 

Merlin doesn't turn immediately. He moves his hand from Arthur's sac to his thigh, pinches a little, pulls on the hairs under his fingers. He leans over and kisses the wet head of Arthur's dick, then takes Arthur into his mouth again, sucking as he slides down until his lips meet his fist. He lets his hand drop to pinch his own nipples on the way down, then wraps his long fingers around his cock, just warmth and pressure. He sinks his mouth all the way to Arthur's cock, and only then, when he hears the inevitable little gasp of admiration and pleasure Arthur always makes when he sees Merlin take all of him, he looks up.

 

The light around them is the colour of bronze now and it reflects on Arthur's hair making it look like his face is framed by a halo. Arthur meets Merlin's eyes with determination bordering on stubbornness, a challenge. If Merlin could possibly do so with his mouth filled with Arthur's thick cock, he'd smile – it's a challenge he doesn't even have to wonder he can pass. He lets his eyes run down from Arthur's deliberately slowly, resting on Arthur's parted lips shaping a few colourful curse words when Merlin sucks Arthur's cock with gusto before starting to move his head up and down Arthur's length in a slow but unwavering rhythm.

 

By the time Merlin's drunk in every inch of Arthur's strong neck with his eyes and his gaze has roamed all over Arthur's chest only just outlined under his t-shirt, his neck and jaw are beginning to hurt and Arthur's breathing is getting faster, much like Merlin's mouth. Every now and then, Merlin pauses with his nose touching Arthur's stomach and sucks rhythmically, or with only the head left in his mouth, which he then licks until Arthur's voice is a high-pitched shaky sound.

 

But the real treat today is that Merlin's eyes end up resting on Arthur's exposed stomach. Arthur's skin is smooth but for the hairs trailing down to his cock, inviting. It's stretched over Arthur's round stomach. There are no muscles there that Merlin can see, but he knows they are there, has seen them work countless times, has rested his head there enough to know how hard Arthur's stomach is. He wants to reach out, cover it with his hands, kiss it and lick it and bite it until Arthur is moaning just from that, but he doesn't. He just lifts both his hands, one smeared in his own pre-come, presses them reverently over the vast expanse of warm skin. He feels more than hears when Arthur lets out a long breath.

 

When he swallows all of Arthur's cock again, his nose pressing into the bottom or Arthur's belly, he can see from the corner of his eye how the muscles give and the skin dips around his nose. He has a strong urge to press his fingers into Arthur until they disappear in the folds of skin and fat. It's a thought so bizarre he'd be embarrassed about it if it weren't connected to Arthur; where Arthur's concerned, Merlin is beyond the point where he is embarrassed and well into the part of their relationship where nothing about Arthur could ever weird him out.

 

He looks up and finds Arthur watching him. There's something in Arthur's eyes that wasn't there before. When their eyes meet, Arthur's hips move a little forward, shoving his cock deeper into Merlin's throat. Merlin readily relaxes his jaw, his hands moving to Arthur's side, pressing into them until he can feel them sink in a little. He urges Arthur on, pulling his body closer. Arthur grips the doorframe as he starts fucking Merlin's mouth.

 

Merlin barely has time to breathe with Arthur's cock filling his throat, and he loves it, his mouth is watering so much the spit is dripping down his chin and onto the carpet under his knees. But through it all, he's most mesmerized by the way his fingers sit against Arthur's sides, not slotting in between his ribs where Arthur often places his on Merlin's body, where they look like they were made to fill those spaces, but creating their own place on Arthur's body, pushing at soft, warm tissue that seems to want to pull them in. merlin's cock twitches at the sight. He rubs circles over Arthur's stomach with his thumbs gently, heedless of the passion and heat of Arthur's own movements.

 

Arthur's breathing is labored and he's grunting with every thrust into Merlin's mouth; Merlin can tell how close he is. He looks up just in time to see Arthur bite his lip and throw his head back with a long guttural sound; a beat later and Merlin is instinctively swallowing as Arthur's cock pulses in his mouth. He lets Arthur slip from his mouth before he is done so the last bit of come ends up on his lips and chin. Arthur's knees are shaking so badly, Merlin thinks it might very well be just his hands holding Arthur up.

 

He helps Arthur kneel down next to him, sweaty and panting and with white marks on his sides where Merlin's fingers were pressed. Merlin thinks there might be bruises tomorrow and he's not sure if he feels more guilty or possessive about that. He chuckles when Arthur falls forward into him, pulling them both down to the floor. His cock, still very much hard, brushes over Arthur's hip and he moans quietly into the side of Arthur's head. Arthur's already kissing over his neck and shoulder sloppily.

 

“What do you want, tell me,” he slurs, his hands clumsy with orgasm, but eagerly divesting Merlin of his clothes.

 

“I...I don't care,” Merlin replies, arching his back when Arthur's hand finds his dick and squeezes it. “Lube in my, my back pocket,” he says as he pulls his t-shirt the rest of the way off, while Arthur searches the pockets of his jeans discarded a little to the side.

 

He's lying completely naked on the scratchy carpet of his living room when Arthur crawls back over him, his face still relaxed and open and Merlin wishes it could be like that more often, always; he hopes it will some day. When Arthur wraps a hand around Merlin's cock this time, it's slick and cold and Merlin hisses as it comes in contact with his burning hot skin. He's pushing into Arthur's fist before Arthur's even done slicking him up and it's such glorious relief after such a long neglect that Merlin can't even moan, he's just sighing and gasping as Arthur jerks him off, quick and fast and rough.

 

Merlin can't keep his hips still, pushing up to meet Arthur's hand going down. His eyes are screwed shut so he can't see how closely Arthur's leaning over him, but he can feel the heat of Arthur's body, the puffs of breath on his cheek. And then Arthur surprises him, presses him down into the carpet with his body, his hips pinning Merlin down for a second. In that brief moment, Merlin feels so many things at once – the girth of Arthur's midsection spreading his legs open further, Arthur's hip bones pressing almost painfully roughly into his pelvis, Arthur's flaccid cock slapping against his balls, Arthur's stomach brushing against his, trapping his erection between their bodies. The flurry of sensation makes Merlin moan and his hands fly to Arthur's lower back, trying to keep him there.

 

But Arthur is stronger and in an elegantly fluid move, he bows his spine, easily putting more distance between their bodies while laughing into Merlin's ear, a deep, rich sound that resonates in Merlin's very bones. Arthur's hand is back between them, pulling on Merlin's cock roughly, bringing him right to the edge of climax, and then slowing down until Merlin is mad from the infuriating game.

 

And then Arthur lies almost on top of him again, uses his hand to press Merlin's cock against his stomach and trap it there, leaving only just enough space for Merlin to rut against him. And Merlin does, completely unable to resist, his hips snapping up at a furious pace as he rubs himself on Arthur's bare stomach, Arthur's shirt again bunched up at his chest. Somewhere through the haze of lust in his mind he understands the importance of that moment, but for the most part he's not thinking at all, chasing his orgasm until he spills over Arthur's hand and shirt with a long whine, Arthur's teeth sinking into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

 

His hips continue weakly fucking up into Arthur's loose fist until it gets painful, when he just lets his body relax into the carpet. Arthur lies half on top of him, half next to him, burying his face into the crook of Merlin's neck. Merlin almost wants to laugh at how cute it is, but he doesn't because he gets it, gets doing things in the heat of the moment and then not knowing how to bring them up when the moment is gone. He tangles their legs together and wraps Arthur up in his arms, holds him close. Against his hip he can feel that Arthur is half-hard again, but since Arthur does nothing about it, Merlin doesn't point it out.

 

He tentatively lowers his hand to Arthur's stomach, smearing his fingers with lube. Arthur tenses for a moment, almost like it's a reflex, an involuntary reaction, then he melts into Merlin's side. Merlin counts the day as a huge win. He's not exactly comfortable drifting off on the floor on a workday, but Arthur is pressed to his side as close to naked as he's ever been and the last of the sunlight is only just creeping out of his apartment and Merlin can't stop smiling, so he figures he might as well not move. After all, he's slept in worse places for much less important things.

 

~*~

 

It's a perfectly ordinary day until it really isn't ordinary at all.

 

Merlin is with his third-graders when he gets a text. He assumes it's from Arthur, but he doesn't get to check it until recess. _Mine after work?_ it says. He types out a quick reply and forgets all about it (it's not like he wasn't planning on going to Arthur's anyway, he practically lives there by now; in fact he's been thinking about selling his place, the topic just hasn't come up yet) until after his last period when he's filling out some forms in the teacher's lounge. He's phone beeps once, then again. Both texts are from Arthur. The first one reads _Waiting for u_ , the second one _naked_. Merlin's heart skips a beat and the lounge feels five degrees hotter all of a sudden. Merlin gives up the forms, grabs his bag and all but runs out of school.

 

The door to Arthur's apartment is locked, so Merlin uses the spare key Arthur _loaned him indefinitely_ to unlock it, then lock it behind himself. Arthur is not in the living room or the kitchen area, but Merlin can't say he's really surprised. He drops the key on the kitchen counter, loses his jacket and tie, shoes and socks. Arthur's black journal is on the coffee table in the living room, but Merlin doesn't get to inspect what it's doing there, though, because he thinks he hears his name being called out. He follows the muffled sound and finds Arthur in the bedroom, his head buried in the pillows and his body wrapped in the white cotton sheets. Merlin glimpses a bare shoulder and his heart beats faster as he grins at the shapeless form on the bed. The kind of glee he feels at such an innocent thing is not necessarily normal, but he knows how much work went into this one afternoon and how much it's taken for Arthur to get to this point.

 

He dives into the sheets. They smell of lavender. Arthur is glaring at him with one eye, the rest of his face smushed into the pillow. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he mumbles, his voice muffled.

 

“Still seems like a good idea to me.” Arthur grumbles something indistinguishable and buries his entire face into the pillow. Merlin knows Arthur by now, though; if Arthur had really regretted that text, he'd have welcomed Merlin dressed and in the living room, probably on his laptop. Merlin knows he can trust Arthur to stop him if he truly feels uncomfortable. No, Arthur just needs some encouragement now.

 

Merlin squirms closer to Arthur and puts a hand to where he approximately estimates is the small of Arthur's back. Arthur doesn't disappoint him, pushing into the touch readily. Merlin leans over and kisses the back of Arthur's shoulder, surprised to find freckles there, trails kisses over to Arthur's ear. He nips at Arthur's earlobe, licks the shell of the ear, and then bites gently underneath it, breathing Arthur's scent there. Arthur hums, the sound vibrating against Merlin's lips.

 

“Promise me,” he says, so quietly that Merlin almost misses it. It sounds so shy, so insecure, so far removed from the Arthur everyone else sees. And Merlin understands now, it was never about Arthur not trusting him, because if Arthur didn't, he'd have hidden the truth from Merlin so much better.

 

“Promise,” Merlin says, squeezing Arthur's shoulder with one hand. His other hand runs over the top of Arthur's back, above his shoulder blades and over the pronounced knob of Arthur's spine at the root of his neck, doubtless from reading and studying in the wrong position.

 

He straddles Arthur's hips, settling in at the place where Arthur's legs meet his ass; Arthur is warm as always and Merlin wants to melt into him. He bends over and bites at the back of Arthur's neck hard enough to draw out a surprised gasp. He softens the blow by kissing and licking the same area his teeth abused as he pulls on the sheets Arthur is wrapped in. Arthur is not holding them though, doesn't even try to stop them from sliding down his back and bunching around his hips and Merlin's knees; and then Merlin has Arthur's back exposed completely, his to do with as he pleases. He keeps his hands resting on Arthur's shoulders, allows himself a moment to press Arthur into the bed almost viciously as he shoves his hips forward, his cock getting hard in his slacks as he rubs it against the inviting round swell of Arthur's ass. Arthur grunts under him, lifting his ass a little in the air, as if offering himself to Merlin. But that's not what Merlin is interested in right now.

 

He runs his hands over Arthur's back slowly, pressing down just enough to make Arthur hum in pleasure. He presses his thumbs on either side of Arthur's spine, running them with just enough pressure right next to the spine all the way from the dip at the bottom of Arthur's back to his neck. He rubs circles with the heels of his palms over the places in Arthur's back where he finds knots and he never lets much time pass without leaning in and kissing a random spot. He only stops when he's sure that Arthur's completely relaxed and practically drooling into the pillow, his fingers completely slack where they rest against the pillow they were gripping when Merlin started.

 

Merlin himself is sporting a full on erection by now, the pleased noises coming from Arthur's throat more than enough to arouse him. He unbuttons his dress shirt, takes it off and throws it to the floor; he removes his belt, but he doesn't take off his trousers. It's his turn to tease Arthur a little.

 

He kneels up, ignores Arthur's feeble sound of protest and crawls down to the foot of the bed. He pulls at the sheets until he can throw them over the side of the bed. He hears a sharp intake of breath coming from Arthur's direction, but Arthur doesn't react otherwise, doesn't even tense up when his whole body is uncovered. Merlin smiles to himself, just a little bit smug (okay, maybe more than just a little bit).

 

His knees are already settled between Arthur's feet, so when he moves forward Arthur is forced to spread his legs. Merlin places his hands on Arthur's legs at his ankles, moving them up as he moves forward. By the time he's passed Arthur's knees he can't wrap his fingers around Arthur's legs, instead they sink into the relaxed muscles, and Merlin watches, rapt. With Arthur's legs spread, he has access to Arthur's balls – he touches them with one finger, traces their shape, feels their fullness. He knows Arthur is hard, probably as much as he is, and it pleases him. 

 

He grabs Arthur's ass with both hands, squeezes hard as soon as he has a globe in each hands, delighting in the high-pitched _oh_ Arthur lets slip. Merlin's thumbs sink into Arthur's crack and he spreads Arthur's ass, revealing Arthur's hole. Arthur gasps, but he must have seen that coming because he's spreading his legs wider, pushing his ass up, filling Merlin's hands further. It looks so wanton that Merlin's hips push into the air of their own accord. Merlin presses his thumbs right against Arthur's rim, the warmth coming from it burning at the tips of his fingers as he pulls them apart, opening Arthur up a little. Arthur groans into the pillow, his hands once again gripping at its sides.

 

Merlin slowly lets go of Arthur, squirming on the bed until he's lying down on his stomach, his face barely an inch away from Arthur's ass. The pressure on his cock feels heavenly and he can't resist fucking into the bed a few times.

 

“You're supposed to fuck _me_ , not the mattress,” Arthur mumbles, tightening the muscles in his ass so it wriggles right in front of Merlin's nose.

 

Merlin's laugh is a little breathless, but he covers it by biting lightly at Arthur's ass, once on each side, down where Arthur's most sensitive. Arthur yelps the first time, moans the second, so Merlin does it once more. The give of soft flesh under his teeth is intoxicating. He sneaks one hand down his body, undoes the button and zipper on his slacks.

 

He presses his thumbs into Arthur's balls just short of painful, then slides them up to spread Arthur's ass again. He presses a kiss to the sensitive skin right behind Arthur's balls, then licks a stripe from there up, stopping just before he gets to Arthur's hole. He's about to ask Arthur for lube when he looks up to find Arthur's hand already shoving the purple bottle in his face.

 

“Eager, are we?” he laughs, deliberately putting more breath into it, so Arthur can feel it against the wetness on his skin. Arthur mumbles something that Merlin supposes was a smart-ass reply. Merlin has just the way to stop Arthur from running his mouth like that.

 

He coats the fingers of his right hand with fruity-smelling lube (Merlin's favourite – Arthur teases him about it all the time), closes the bottle and puts it within easy reach. He holds Arthur's ass spread with his left hand as he runs the tip of his right index finger over Arthur's crack all the way from the bottom of his spine to his balls. Arthur moans loudly into the pillow. Merlin presses the finger to Arthur's hole, pushing enough for the muscle to start spreading, but not enough to actually penetrate, then he pulls the finger away. He prods at Arthur a few times, before Arthur loses all patience and rubs himself into the bed with a curse. Merlin would laugh were it not for the fact that Arthur's pleasure was the most arousing thing he'd ever seen in his life.

 

He leans in and kisses the marks his teeth left as he lets just the tip of his finger slide into Arthur's body. Arthur moans loudly, his back arching as he takes the finger in deeper. He's relatively relaxed, Merlin finds, and his body swallows Merlin's finger with ease. Merlin pumps the finger in and out slowly at first, then faster, until he's positive Arthur can take more; he pulls his finger almost all the way out, only to shove two right back in. Arthur makes a deep, rumbling noise in his chest. He starts to moan a little every time Merlin pulls his fingers out only to push them in harder. Merlin finds it mesmerizing to watch, his fingers building up the rhythm, Arthur's hole taking them more and more readily even as the rim is visibly tugged when Merlin starts to pull out, even as the skin around Arthur's hole gets darker and redder. Merlin's ass clenches in sympathy – it's been a while since Arthur last took him, on the kitchen table, slow but hard, and he rather misses the feeling of being filled by Arthur's thick cock.

 

Eventually, Merlin adds the third finger, slowly and spinning his fingers around a bit, stretching Arthur slowly to help him accommodate the width. It seems like he's trying to go slow for nothing because Arthur is impatiently pushing onto his fingers, moaning and grunting into the pillow, his skin covered in sweat. There's a rosy flush covering the top of Arthur's back and his neck, his face too, Merlin knows even though he can't see, because he's seen Arthur like this before, fighting not to come, but seeking relief anyway.

 

He curls his fingers to give them more girth, brushes with each of them over Arthur's prostate as he pulls them out of Arthur's ass. It's as if in slow motion that he sees how Arthur stays open for a split second, like the fingers are still there, before his hole shrinks again, the muscle loose and relaxed this time.

 

Merlin knows he could just fuck Arthur right now and they'd both finish fast and hard, but he can do that any time. Today they have as much time as they want, they have privacy and Merlin wants to make it special.

 

He fills his hands with Arthur's ass again, massaging it between his fingers before holding it open so he can lean down to press a kiss to Arthur's hole. It seems to take Arthur by surprise because he tries to squirm away, but there's nowhere to go, trapped as he is between the bed and Merlin. So Merlin kisses Arthur again, an open-mouthed kiss this time; he sucks a little, feeling the slickness of the lube all over his mouth. He licks over Arthur's hole, circles the rim with the tip of his tongue, then flattens his tongue over the puffed up muscle before he slides his tongue inside, tasting the raspberry lube.

 

Arthur's reaction is everything Merlin hoped for, a long keening sound and a wild bucking of his hips. Arthur's ass gets shoved unceremoniously into Merlin's face. For a moment Merlin can't breathe so he has to put his hands on Arthur's hips to calm them and keep them in place. He doesn't remove his tongue, though, pushing it deeper instead and curling it up, then down, just catching Arthur's prostate. Arthur shivers all over, lifts his head only to be able to say, “I fucking hate you, I'm gonna come,” in between drawn-out moans. Merlin grins as much as he can against the slick skin under his mouth.

 

He fucks Arthur with his tongue, sliding it in and out easily, Arthur's hole offering him minimal resistance until the very end, when Arthur tightens around him without warning. Merlin doesn't get to enjoy it for long, not with Arthur shoving forward into the bed and Merlin's tongue slipping out. Merlin is too busy watching Arthur writhe on the bed to notice it at first, but then the sound comes to him, a low, muffled tone, interspersed with loud intakes of breath, almost like hiccups or sobs. Merlin knows then and there he wants to make Arthur sound like that again.

 

While he waits for Arthur to come down from the high, Merlin gets out of bed and rids himself of the rest of his clothes quickly and efficiently, pausing only once to half-jokingly ask Arthur if he's alive. Arthur makes a noise in response, something Merlin is not sure was supposed to be words. Just as Merlin is about to crawl back into bed and turn Arthur around on his back (it cannot possibly be comfortable or good for his breathing to keep his head in the pillow for so long), Arthur turns to face him. Merlin freezes mid-step, never uncomfortable with his nudity, but never really having it on full display either.

 

Arthur licks his lips twice before speaking up, his voice hoarse and breaking. “I'm gonna need a bit of a break here if you want me to take care of that properly,” he says, waving towards Merlin's cock, standing proudly erect and dark with blood. He smiles at Merlin then, a smile so private and intimate and fond, one that crinkles the corners of Arthur's eyes and makes him look _happy_. He kneels by the bed, aligning their faces and kissing Arthur as softly as he can. It's an awkward angle, but Arthur doesn't complain.

 

Merlin puts his hands on Arthur's wrists, crossed over his chest and stomach, mostly hiding them from view, and gently pries them apart. He manoeuvres Arthur onto his back and climbs into his lap, careful to avoid actually touching Arthur's soft cock, probably still overly sensitive from his orgasm. It's the first time Merlin's been able and allowed to see Arthur in his full naked glory, but if there is one thing Merlin wants, it's to help Arthur feel comfortable, so as much as he wants to, he doesn't stare anywhere but at Arthur's face.

 

“Want some water?” he asks, noticing that Arthur's bottom lip is bitten almost raw.

 

“That would be nice.”

 

Merlin takes his time going to the kitchen and back, willing himself to calm down, brings a small bottle of water with him. Arthur is lying on his side when he comes back, facing the door. His arms are still spread out though. Merlin smiles at him; Arthur smiles back without a blink. Merlin hands Arthur the bottle, then sits next to him on the bed. Arthur leans his head against one of Merlin's jutting hipbones. Merlin's erection was flagging by the time he came back into the room, but he's sitting on their bed now, on the sheet that must be soaked with Arthur's come somewhere, the room smells of sex and sweat and Arthur is naked and so close; Merlin knows he'll be ready to ravish Arthur again in no time.

 

“How do you do it?” Arthur asks, having taken a few gulps of water. His voice still sounds a little rough. Merlin hums questioningly, running his hands through Arthur's hair. Arthur puts a warm hand on his thigh. “How are you so... confident?”

 

Merlin frowns. He never really expected a conversation about this, never really thought about his answers. “I guess... I'm fine with how I look?” he tries. Arthur is looking up at him with undivided attention; it makes Merlin feel like he's with one of his students. “I used to feel like I wasn't good enough. And I know I'm not the best there is, but hey, this is me and I want to feel comfortable in my own skin.”

 

“You _are_ the best,” Arthur murmurs, pressing a kiss to Merlin's thigh. Merlin just smiles down at him.

 

“Besides, I know you like me for more than my stellar good looks,” he jokes. “At least I hope so.”

 

Arthur swats at his leg. “Come down here,” he says, pulling Merlin by the arm.

 

Merlin happily obliges, letting Arthur guide him until they're lying on top of each other, their bodies aligned perfectly, touching everywhere. Merlin can feel every bit of skin, the body warmth that seeps through it, every imperfection. There's nothing between them this time, not air, not sheets, not clothes. Merlin sighs, his head falling to Arthur's shoulder, his face pressing to Arthur's neck. Arthur's hands are gentle over his back, his short nails just barely tickling over Merlin's skin.

 

“Talk to me,” Arthur says, his breath making the hairs on the back of Merlin's neck stand up.

 

“You haven't fucked me in too long,” Merlin replies rubbing his cock back to hardness against Arthur's groin.

 

Arthur chuckles. “So I haven't.”

 

Merlin is about to move into a better position when he hears the bottle of lube being uncapped. The anticipation makes him all the more fidgety and he sinks his fingers into Arthur's upper arm. He spreads his legs, ending up wrapped around Arthur's body like an octopus. He can feel how he's spread open and exposed even before Arthur's wet fingers are at his hole, gently massaging. Really, Merlin's probably damn near ready since he worked himself open with his fingers that morning in the shower, and he still feels quite loose from the large dildo he used on himself afterwards, but he is not about to tell Arthur that and cost himself the pleasure of Arthur's fingers in his ass.

 

Arthur must notice, of course, when his fingers sink easily into Merlin's body and Merlin moans loudly, his teeth grazing over Arthur's neck. Still, he takes his time, preparing Merlin like it's their first time, like Merlin is a virgin and this is his first time. By the time Arthur is done, Merlin is pretty sure he's bitten a large hickey into Arthur's neck and since he can feel Arthur's cock on his stomach he knows Arthur is beginning to get hard again.

 

Arthur has three fingers in Merlin's ass, pumping them in and out in a steady rhythm, curling them and scissoring at random. Merlin pushes back on Arthur's hand. It's hot and hard, but there's no urgency, not like there was an hour ago. Merlin enjoys this new pace.

 

Arthur's fingers keep pushing deeper and deeper, until they can't get any further and Arthur's hand is hitting Merlin's ass with every stroke in. that's when Merlin get's the hint, figures out that Arthur wants him to move forward. He sits up, Arthur's fingers slipping out of his body with an obscene sound. Merlin's ass squeezes around nothing as he walks on his knees towards Arthur.

 

“This what you want?” he asks when the dripping head of his cock is at Arthur's lips. He thinks he has the advantage, being in the position to set the rhythm and knowing that Arthur wants him to, but before he can even grab something to hold onto, Arthur is sucking the head of his cock and pushing three fingers back inside him at the same time. Merlin keels over, his hands shooting out to steady him against the wall in front of him. He's not even sure himself what the curses coming out of his mouth are. Arthur is looking up at him mischievously as he curls his fingers just right to hit Merlin's prostate. Merlin thinks he's never come so hard, but when open his eyes again, he realizes he is still just as hard and desperate as before. Arthur's fingers are wrapped in a tight ring around the base of Merlin's cock and Arthur is grinning up at him. Merlin curses again before sitting so that he's no longer crowding into Arthur's face.

 

“Where on earth did you learn that?” he asks, trying to get his breathing under control.

 

“Here and there.”

 

Merlin rolls his eyes with obvious exaggeration. He looks down at their bodies, glistening with sweat and other fluids, all naked skin and coarse hair. Merlin's hands are resting on Arthur's chest and he is sitting on Arthur's stomach. When he looks up, Arthur is looking at him expectantly and with some apprehension, like waiting for a grade or judgement. Merlin leans forward and kisses the centre of Arthur's chest as he pinches Arthur's nipples lightly. This time Arthur doesn't so much sigh in relief as he moans at the pleasure.

 

Merlin slides down Arthur's body until he's sitting between Arthur's legs again and can properly reach every bit of Arthur that he wants. Arthur raises his hands in mock surrender before spreading his arms out. Merlin laughs at the gesture.

 

His hands never stop roaming over Arthur's chest and stomach, his fingers restlessly twitching, pushing and pressing. He noses through the light hair at Arthur's chest, pulls on it with his hand. Arthur is still a little bit wary and guarded, Merlin can tell, but he's responding more and more as Merlin moves on to the big guns. Arthur's skin is slick and Merlin takes every opportunity to smell him, sniffing at all the places where he knows Arthur's smell will linger most. It occurs to him that Arthur may find that odd, but Arthur only seems amused when Merlin dips his fingers into the hair at Arthur's armpit, then sniffs his fingers.

 

Arthur's skin is supple under Merlin's fingers and teeth and tongue. Merlin is biting gently at Arthur's stomach and his nose is buried in the dip of Arthur's belly button when Arthur arches his back just slightly and Arthur's cock presses against Merlin's throat for a moment. Merlin looks up at Arthur with an arched eyebrow; Arthur is leaning on his forearms, following Merlin's every move. Merlin closes his eyes and swallows Arthur's cock in one go. He nearly chokes, but the long groan coming from Arthur's mouth is more than worth it. He starts moving, picking up pace fast. Arthur hums appreciatively, one of his hands stroking through Merlin's hair. It falls onto Merlin's shoulder as Arthur's head lolls back and Merlin has half a mind to keep going until his jaw is numb and Arthur's soft in his mouth.

 

He doesn't know how he manages to drag his mouth away from Arthur's cock, but he's soon up in Arthur's lap, they're kissing breathlessly and Arthur's dick is rubbing between Merlin's asscheeks. Merlin is playing with Arthur's nipples (his new favourite spot that makes Arthur lose his mind), pinching them and pulling them, as Arthur moans into his mouth. Arthur's hands are squeezing his hips but they have been for a while, so Merlin doesn't expect it when Arthur pushes up into him and bottoms out in one smooth move.

 

He moans at the sudden fullness, has to break away from Arthur's mouth because he's gasping for air. Arthur doesn't give him the time to recover, starts fucking him hard and fast immediately and with Merlin sitting on his lap, he's sinking as deep as he can go. Merlin's hands move to Arthur's shoulders because he needs to support himself against the assault Arthur's treating him to. He rests his forehead against Arthur's and shares shallow breaths with him, having completely lost control over the sounds he's making. The air feels too hot on his skin and the sound of skin slapping on skin is loud in his ears when Arthur holds him still and fucks up into him harder than Merlin's probably every felt him do. Through the haze of everything he's feeling, Arthur never breaks eye contact and his eyes are Merlin's anchors to the real world.

 

When Arthur slows down to a stop, Merlin can't help the whine of frustration. “God, don't stop, what are you doing, fuck me, fuck, I need to come,” he blabbers, barely aware of what's leaving his mouth.

 

Arthur's breath on his face is shaky, but his hands on Merlin's back are steady. “Want you to fuck me,” he says. Merlin's cock twitches just at the words, the desperation in Arthur's strained voice.

 

“Yes, fuck yes,” he says, rolling his hips one last time, feeling Arthur's cock stretch him before pulling off and pushing Arthur to his back. He doesn't bothers to check if Arthur is still ready, he knows he did a good job on the preparation. He takes a deep breath before he aligns the head of his cock, pre-come oozing out slowly, with Arthur's hole. Faintly, he thinks that perhaps more lube would be a good idea, but Arthur is pinching his thigh, urging him on, and Merlin pushes in slowly.

 

It's a torturous minute of Merlin sinking into Arthur's body before his balls finally press against Arthur's ass and he lets out a long, unsteady breath. He falls forward, kisses Arthur's cheek and nose and lips, murmurs, “All right?”

 

Arthur's hands slap Merlin's ass as he pushes Merlin in further. “ _Fuck me_ ,” he grits out. Merlin wants to move slowly, he does, but his hips are already stuttering and he's so fucking close it hurts, so he hold on to the bedpost and fucks into Arthur's tight hole with quick short thrusts, barely pulling out. Then Arthur spreads his legs wider, holds them up and open with his hands under his thighs and Merlin has the perfect view of Arthur's body and the marks he left on it.

 

Damn near delirious at this point, Merlin starts talking. “God, Arthur, look at yourself,” he moans, losing all semblance of a rhythm as he fucks Arthur hard enough to make the bed creak, “so perfect, how can you not see it, fuck, wanna kiss you everywhere, wanna lick your belly, wanna rub myself on it, cover it with come, fuck I'm so close.”

 

Arthur grunts, his face screwing up as his cock spurts over his stomach and chest. Merlin pulls out of him quickly, leans over and jerks himself off with fast strokes over the top of his cock until he's coming too, crying out wordlessly before Arthur's even let his legs fall down, while his hole is still twitching with the spasm of climax, his come landing on Arthur's balls and still-hard cock which twitches valiantly, over Arthur's belly and up to his nipples.

 

When he's done, Merlin is so exhausted he just wants to collapse on top of Arthur and sleep for a week. Arthur seems to be of a similar mind, his eyes closed and his breathing evening out. The only reason he doesn't fall directly down is because of how pretty a picture Arthur makes naked and covered in their combined fluids. Merlin falls to Arthur's side and Arthur holds him close with one arm.

 

“That was...” he says.

 

“Yeah,” Merlin agrees.

 

“I'm, uh...”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Arthur buries his nose in Merlin's hair and kisses the top of his head. Still unable to look away from Arthur's body, Merlin reaches out a hand and spreads out the pearly white come over Arthur's stomach. Arthur moans weakly and that's all it takes; Merlin has to lean over and taste it, the mixture of himself and Arthur and the sweat on Arthur's skin. He wants to bathe in it, want to fall asleep on Arthur's stomach, breathing him in. He knows it would be a terrible idea, though, so he just settles in close instead, Arthur's arm around him and Merlin's hand still idly stroking over Arthur's round belly.

 

~*~

 

On Sunday evening when Merlin should be putting the finishing touches on his weekly lesson plans he instead snuggles up next to Arthur on the couch and whispers, “Take me to bed.” It is a testament to how far Arthur has come that he just hums his approval when Merlin begins pressing kisses to Arthur’s jean clad thighs, working his way up towards Arthur’s hips and stomach. “I want all of you,” Merlin insists, left hand finding its way between Arthur’s legs to rub against his half hard cock. 

 

“Merlin,” Arthur groans, head falling back as he opens his thighs a little wider, offering Merlin more access. 

 

Merlin lets out a little huff of annoyance and meets Arthur’s half-lidded gaze, noting the blown pupils. “Take me to bed,” he repeats.

 

“Yeah,” Arthur agrees, fingers tracing down Merlin’s side and tightening on Merlin’s hip, trying to get Merlin into his lap so that they can create the friction they both need.

 

“I want to show you how much I want you,” Merlin says into Arthur’s ear, hot breath ghosting across Arthur’s neck. He delights in Arthur’s involuntary little shudder and nips at the tender skin just below Arthur’s earlobe. “How much I like being with you, how much I enjoy your body.”

 

“Merlin,” Arthur breathes out and Merlin knows this is Arthur’s consent his way of agreeing to go to bed and leave as much of the self-consciousness behind as he possibly can. 

 

They end up in the bedroom without ever really letting go of one another but not managing to shed any of the clothes either. Partly it’s because Merlin wants it to be a reflection of how much he cares, how much he appreciates Arthur for who he is and partly because he wants to take his time and savor every touch of Arthur’s body he is granted. 

 

“You’re gorgeous,” Merlin tells him when they finally tumble into bed and he submits to Arthur’s touches and caresses, arching his body up when Arthur presses him down. He loves Arthur’s touch as much as he loves touching Arthur and when Arthur pulls both of their shirts off and then covers Merlin’s body with his own, Merlin can’t help the arousal that gathers at the base of his belly. 

 

Arthur smiles down at him and Merlin lifts his head up to kiss Arthur hard and sloppy, arms wrapping around Arthur’s back and hands gripping his shoulder as he tries to pull Arthur even closer. “I want you.”

 

Merlin’s fingers trail down Arthur’s back and then around to his front, caressing his hips and belly and then flicking open the button on his jeans. “Off,” he orders petulantly and Arthur chuckles deeply, helping Merlin get them both fully undressed. 

 

“I want to make you feel good,” Arthur tells him, nudging his thigh between Merlin’s legs and gently rolling his hips so that Merlin groans in pleasure. 

 

“Always make me feel good,” Merlin answers, voice low and strained with arousal. 

 

Arthur nods and Merlin wants to say something about how Arthur is getting cocky but he bites it back, knowing it would likely make Arthur freeze and that’s honestly the last thing Merlin wants. Teasing Arthur about his confidence in bed is not the way to get laid and Merlin wouldn’t mean it anyway. He loves how Arthur makes him feel and as Arthur continues to roll their hips together, Arthur’s mouth finding all of the tender spots on Merlin’s neck, the last thing Merlin wants is for Arthur to stop.

 

“Let me,” Merlin begins but Arthur shakes his head and bites Merlin’s collarbone, sending another jolt of arousal straight to his groin. Merlin moans and grabs at Arthur’s ass, forcing their bodies to fit together like puzzle pieces as he tries to rut against Arthur’s hip. 

 

“Slow down,” Arthur chides, capturing Merlin’s mouth in a kiss that’s just the right mixture of hot and wet and tongue. 

 

Merlin moans again and his hands squeeze Arthur’s ass before reaching down farther to caress Arthur’s thighs and then come back up to rest on either side of Arthur’s hips. He turns his head just enough to break the kiss and pant out in Arthur’s ear, “I want you inside me.”

 

“Yes,” Arthur groans and he attacks Merlin’s mouth in a frenzy of hot, hard kisses that leave Merlin looking thoroughly debauched before they’ve even really gotten started. “I’m going to get you so hard that you’re dripping when I finally push myself inside you.”

 

“Arthur,” Merlin whimpers, hips bucking up in an effort to seek more of that delicious friction. 

 

Arthur hushes him and pulls away to dig around in the bedside table, making Merlin grumble his displeasure at the lack of contact. “This is going to feel good in a moment,” Arthur promises when Merlin makes grabby hands to try and pull Arthur back on top of him. “Lie still.”

 

Merlin huffs but does as he’s told and is rewarded in just a few moments by the feel of Arthur’s hand trailing down across his hip and grabbing hold of his hard cock that’s already red from the brief attention. “I really want you to fuck me.”

 

“I will,” Arthur says, more serious than normal for the bedroom and it’s a promise if Merlin’s ever heard one. 

 

Merlin smiles up at Arthur who is now crouched between Merlin’s knees and looking at him like he’s something both beautiful and precious. “Please,” he whispers and looks at where Arthur’s cock is standing thick and hard between Arthur’s own thighs. 

 

Arthur smiles and Merlin finds that he can’t wait anymore and reaches up to tug Arthur down on top of him with a surprised but not unwelcome noise. “Much better,” Merlin says before flipping them over so that he is on top, allowing him better access to Arthur’s body. “You’re so sexy.”

 

Merlin leans down to kiss Arthur’s chest, his pecs, his ribs, and finally, his belly. “So fucking sexy.” He trails kisses down, down down, until he is mouthing at Arthur’s hips, one hand reaching down to cup Arthur’s balls while the other grips Arthur’s cock just the way Arthur likes it and begins to stroke at a steady rhythm. 

 

Merlin can tell that Arthur is swallowing back his moans and he just dips his head to suck at the head of Arthur’s cock before pressing more kisses to Arthur’s stomach, wanting desperately for Arthur to feel the love Merlin has for his body and the areas Arthur thinks are unwanted. There is so much he wants to say but he keeps it all inside, preferring to show Arthur as he continues to kiss and touch and stroke. 

 

“Merlin,” Arthur moans, hands reaching for Merlin’s cock and resuming his own attentions. 

 

Merlin groans, leaning down slightly so that he is able to press their naked bodies together once more. 

 

Arthur wraps the arm that isn’t rhythmically stroking Merlin’s cock around Merlin’s waist and jerks his hips upwards, signaling to Merlin that Arthur once more wishes to be in control. Merlin is all too willing to let Arthur take charge and he allows himself to be flipped onto his back once more, Arthur’s body pressed on top of him so that he loses his grip on Arthur’s cock and grabs Arthur’s ass instead. He watches as Arthur reaches for the lube and spreads his legs invitingly. 

 

Arthur smiles a pleased, open smile and Merlin grins in return, wanting nothing more than to feel the push of Arthur’s fingers inside of him. After just a few moments, one and then two fingers are pushing inside of his entrance, stretching him with almost unbearable slowness. 

 

“Arthur!” he grits out and Arthur just shakes his head, continuing his slow but steady push inside of Merlin, his eyes never leaving Merlin’s face. Merlin groans loud and deeply when Arthur’s fingers brush just right against his prostate and he cries out when he feels the third finger enter alongside the other two. “Please!”

 

“Soon,” Arthur promises gently and Merlin feels his dick jump and knows it’s going to start leaking at any moment, just like Arthur wanted it to before he buried himself balls deep inside Merlin. 

 

Merlin begins writhing, trying to fuck himself on Arthur’s fingers as a fourth one finally finds its way inside his ass and Arthur’s mouth closes around his right nipple. “Fuck!” he moans, pleasure gathering in his belly. “Fuck, Arthur, I’m going to come soon.”

 

“I’ve got you,” Arthur says and Merlin almost sobs from the loss when Arthur’s fingers slip out of his ass and reach for a condom. He watches Arthur put the condom on and pushes his hips up to offer Arthur even better access. Arthur pulls Merlin down towards him and presses his cock at Merlin’s entrance, lining them both up and beginning the slow, delicious press inside of Merlin’s ass. 

 

Merlin can’t wait much longer and he finally gives up on letting Arthur take his time and lifts his leg to hook around Arthur’s waist, forcing Arthur to thrust the rest of the way inside. They both moan deeply and Merlin feels his eyes roll back as a wave of pleasure rolls through him and he clenches around Arthur’s cock.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur gasps out and he falls forward, arms shaking as he holds himself up so as not to hurt either one of them with the sheer force of his body crashing down on top of Merlin. 

 

“Move,” Merlin urges, rocking his hips and not wanting to wait for his body to adjust to the feel of Arthur inside of him. He loves this part, the mix between pleasure-pain as an orgasm builds with Arthur thrusting into him. 

 

Arthur looks as though he’s about to ask whether or not Merlin is all right and so Merlin just wraps his arms around Arthur and pulls his face down so that he can crush their mouths together. He licks into Arthur’s mouth and bites down on Arthur’s bottom lip, showing him just how all right he is with the pleased moans and groans as Arthur’s thrusts get faster and deeper. 

 

Merlin’s hands roam Arthur’s body, loving the feel of Arthur’s muscles moving under his hands as he drives himself deeper. They’re both almost gasping and Merlin knows he’s going to come soon, completely untouched, and so he buries the fingers of his left hand in Arthur’s hair and pulls Arthur into a kiss that is bruising. His right hand grips Arthur’s hip tightly and he feels the orgasm building until he finally comes in hot spurts between them, his noises and mumbled words swallowed by Arthur’s returned kiss. 

 

He lies back, his body languidly sprawled under Arthur as Arthur drives into him faster. He forces himself to lift one arm, put a hand on the side of Arthur's face and stroke Arthur's cheekbone with his thumb. Arthur turns his head to the side and kisses Merlin's palm as he comes silently.

 

~*~

 

Arthur is exactly 6 feet tall and today he weighs exactly 213.16 pounds.

 

Well, not exactly. He weighed 213.16 pounds when he last stepped on the scale, three days ago. This is because he doesn't keep a scale in his bathroom anymore and he doesn't step on it every morning and every evening. He no longer feels like he needs to.

 

His black journal is normally locked in its drawer, but not for safe-keeping anymore, no; now it's locked there because Arthur doesn't use it anymore. He doesn't even remember what the last number was (this is a lie, he remembers very well that the last number was 208.98). He doesn't even care (this is mostly not a lie).

 

The thing is, Arthur's always thought of his future happiness as being conditioned by losing weight. But he has a job he enjoys and he has friends he loves to spend time with, talking about books and movies or going out for a run, and he has Merlin. Merlin, who moved in three months ago. Merlin, who sleeps in his bed. Merlin, who wakes up alone in his bed when Arthur's gone out for a run and then waits for him to come home with a cup of coffee and a shower they take together. Merlin, who kisses him on his cheek and forehead and lips and shoulder and belly. Merlin, who tells him he's beautiful when he's wearing suits and when he's wearing sweats and when he's wearing nothing at all. Merlin, who makes him happy.

 

And Arthur is happy, with his life, with his career, even with himself. It's not to say he will never want to or try to lose the weight again. He's not saying never. He's just saying not now.

 

So Arthur puts away the pen he's holding and he closes the journal without a new entry. He puts it in the drawer that he locks quickly like only habits are performed. He runs his hand over the drawer. The texture is not so familiar anymore. It doesn't even come close to how familiar the feel of Merlin's skin is under Arthur's fingers.

 

~*~

 

Arthur comes back to his run to an apartment smelling of fresh coffee, a steaming cup on the kitchen counter. He calls out to Merlin, but there is no answer.

 

The shower in the master bathroom is running. Arthur takes his clothes off, drops them on a chair and trudges to the bathroom. It smells of the earthy body wash Merlin prefers.

 

“Started without me, I see,” Arthur comments as he steps into the tub. There's just enough space for them both.

 

“Have classes early this semester.” Merlin's arms wrap around Arthur from behind, his hands coming to rest on Arthur's belly. He kisses is Arthur's shoulder. “I might take up running with you if you can give me incentive to get up.”

 

“I'm offended you need more incentive than my presence,” Arthur jokes. Merlin's hands make a wet sound when they slap against Arthur's ass. Arthur laughs.

 

~*~

 

Arthur is careful to be quiet as he gets out of the bathroom and back into their room. His bare feet don't make a sound. Merlin, however, is already awake. He takes in the sight of Arthur standing nude and freshly showered in the doorway. He smiles.

 

“Are you coming back or am I getting up?” he mumbles sleepily. His hair is completely messed up and there are pillow creases on one side of his face.

 

Arthur looks at the alarm clock on their bedside, at the running shoes in the hallway. He squirms under the covers with Merlin and goes back to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Arthur is drifting in and out of sleep, the bark of the oak pressing into his back pleasantly. The sun is shining and there isn't a cloud in sight. The park is filled with laughing children and couples in love.

 

“Hey, hey,” Merlin whispers from where his head is pillowed on Arthur's stomach.

 

“Mmm?”

 

“I love you, you know.” Merlin's face is half hidden and the half that Arthur can see is blushing and grinning all at the same time, looking very childish.

 

Arthur grins and strokes Merlin's hair. “Yeah, I know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, hope it was more memorable to you than it appears to have been to me lol


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